The Outlaw's Daughter
by Livangel16
Summary: Abigail Locksley is the daughter of Robin Hood and Maid Marian. Adopted when she was a child after her parents' executions, Abigail is sent to court to become a maid-in-waiting to the ruthless King John's new queen. Disgusted by the king's treatment of his subjects, Abigail becomes determined to fight for the common people of England. But what happens when she falls madly in love?
1. Chapter 1

Robin Hood BBC-The Outlaw's Daughter

Synopsis: Abigail Locksley is the teenage daughter of Robin Hood and Maid Marian. Adopted when she was a small child after her parents' executions, Abigail is sent to court to become a maid-in-waiting to the ruthless King John's new queen. Disgusted by the new king's treatment of his subjects and noblemen, Abigail becomes determined to fight for the common people of England. And when a stranger comes and unites her and her court friends in an unexpected way, her goals may be within reach. But will her love for the King's nephew impede her destiny?

**Hey! So, this is my first Fan Fiction story for Robin Hood BBC ever! Have never watched the show, but I've been desperate to write a Robin Hood story for a while now! So, this is just the intro, but I need you guys to review and give me feedback so I can know whether to continue this story or not! Thanks and enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Robin Hood or any other characters on the show! BBC does! All O/C are my property though!  
**

Introduction

_July 5, 1187_

Robin could hear the sound of hoof beats coming closer to the estate. He chanced a glance from the window. Yes. Six of them on horseback, all wearing the colors of the Plantagenet family. No doubt about it. John had sent them to take him and Marian. But John would never get his tyrannical hands on his Abigail, his pride and joy. Even if he had to take his sword and fight to the death, he would do so to protect the woman he loved and his little girl.

"Robin! I heard horses! Is it…_them_?" Marian whispered as she and Lady Thomas dressed the four year old girl in her travelling gown. Robin turned and nodded at his wife.

"Hurry! We don't have much time left!" hissed Robin as he watched the Black Knights dismount. He gritted his teeth. He **could** fight them, him and Marian, but that would only make things worse.

"Mama! Where am I going?" asked little Abigail as her little travelling cloak was placed about her shoulders. Marian shoved a bag into Lady Thomas's arms containing Abigail's clothes and her bow and arrows, which Robin had had made especially for her. Robin quickly came over and knelt down on one knee in front of his daughter. She had his dark, brown hair and Marian's beautiful, blue eyes. Her skin, thanks to long days of frolicking in meadows, was a shade of brown. Nevertheless, she would grow to be a beauty someday. Robin felt his heart pang at the thought of missing seeing his daughter falling in love for the first time or arranging a betrothal for her. But he couldn't erase the past; nor could he be ashamed of it. He had done what he'd needed to and was proud. Someday, he hoped that Abigail would be proud of him and Marian.

"Lady Thomas is going to take you home with her," Robin explained to his daughter. "You'll be staying with her and her husband until we've settled some…business with the King. Now, be a good girl, listen to what they tell you, learn your lessons well and practice your little talent, Abby. Alright?" The little girl smiled. She knew he was talking about her archery skills. She'd got her first bow and quiver of arrows a year ago, and every day, she and her father practiced in the orchard.

Robin scooped his daughter into his arms and crushed her in a tight hug. Marian held back tears as she hugged her child next, the tiny arms coming around her neck and hugging her in return.

"Don't cry, Mama," Abigail said, patting her mother's cheeks. "I'll come back. Don't cry, Mama. Don't cry." Maid Marian smiled and then looked at the blonde-haired woman standing before her.

"Lady Thomas. We are forever in your debt," Maid Marian told the woman. Lady Ursula Thomas was the wife of Lord Patrick Thomas, one of King John's most trusted advisors, and had fallen in love with Robin and his family since they'd returned to Locksley Manor when Marian was pregnant with Abigail. She and her husband were well aware of Robin's and Marian's pasts but were not repulsed by it in the least. While the men were free to talk about politics and rant about injustice, Lady Thomas secretly envied Marian's adventures as The Night Watchman.

There was a loud rap on the door and everyone jumped. Marian quickly opened the back door and Lady Thomas and Abigail scurried out, heading with all speed into Sherwood Forest. Lady Thomas had hitched her horse to a tree there and, assuming highwaymen hadn't found it, she and Abigail would be able to escape silently and stealthily.

The little girl and the woman ran across the meadows where Abigail loved to play with the butterflies and other insects and into the cool, lush greenery of Sherwood Forest. Abigail was amazed. The trees were just as tall as in her father's stories about Robin Hood and his band of Merry Men. She could almost see the logs behind Robin and his men would hide before ambushing the Sheriff of Nottingham and his caravan of stolen wealth from the poor villagers of Nottingham with volleys of arrows and swords.

"Come along, Abigail!" chided Lady Thomas as the woman travelled further into the brush towards a chestnut-colored mare tied to the trunk of an oak tree. Abigail, remembering her promise to her mother and father, obeyed. Lady Thomas quickly untied the horse before hoisting little Abigail into the saddle. Climbing up behind her, Lady Thomas said, "Hold on tight to the pommel, Abigail. It's the little bump in front of you." Abigail nodded and obeyed. Pulling back on the reins, the mare quickly galloped out of the shrubbery and down the path through Sherwood Forest towards Lambert Castle.

* * *

That night, after Abigail was put to bed, Lady Thomas came downstairs to find a messenger waiting for her. He handed her a letter and she handed him his pay. She broke the seal and saw that it was from her husband, Lord Patrick.

_My dearest wife,_

_ I am writing to you from Whitehall Castle here in London. His Grace, King John, God preserve him forever, has seen fit to arrest Robin Locksley and his wife, the former Maid Marian (now Marian Locksley) for crimes of incitement to cause unrest and treason against the King of England. By the time this letter reaches you, they will already have been arrested and taken to the Tower of London to await execution._

_ It will be a very public affair, and I am told that the King himself will be there to witness the death of his greatest enemy. The axe man, I am told, is not very eager to fulfill his duties as he normally is with traitors to His Grace (you remember, dearest, that Robin did aid him in rescuing his daughter). But we must all play our parts in this tragedy called life, my dear. And we shall play ours._

_ The child (whom I know you will have saved from becoming a destitute orphan) is to be raised without any knowledge of her parents' pasts or the crimes brought against them. She will be reared as a Lambert and will come to court with me when she is sixteen to be introduced to His Grace, King John. We shall raise her to be a lady and eradicate any of her parents' behaviors from her for her own protection as well as ours. I will hopefully join you in a few days to welcome our new daughter to her new home._

_As writes your faithful husband,_

_Patrick_

Lady Thomas hurried up the stairs and placed the letter in her jewelry box before summoning her maid to undress her. When she was arrayed in her nightgown, she went back to check on Abigail. The little girl was sleeping peacefully in the large bed. Lady Thomas smiled and almost tripped over the bag she'd brought with them. She saw that in the open bag lay a bow and a quiver of arrows. Remembering her husband's orders, she bent down to pick them up, but then she heard Abigail murmur, "Papa" before turning over on her side. Lady Thomas straightened up and returned to her chamber and retired for the night. Let the child have her bow and arrows. She would soon grow tired of them and put them away when she was a little older. If only she could've known how wrong she'd be!

**So. If I can get at least 2 reviews, I'll post chapter one tomorrow. Thanks for reading and...reviews please!**


	2. Chapter 2

Robin Hood BBC-The Outlaw's Daughter

Synopsis: Abigail Locksley is the teenage daughter of Robin Hood and Maid Marian. Adopted when she was a small child after her parents' executions, Abigail is sent to court to become a maid-in-waiting to the ruthless King John's new queen. Disgusted by the new king's treatment of his subjects and noblemen, Abigail becomes determined to fight for the common people of England. And when a stranger comes and unites her and her court friends in an unexpected way, her goals may be within reach. But will her love for the King's nephew impede her destiny?

**Hey! So, thanks to my solo reviewer calmingbreez for leaving a comment. Please continue to do that. Also thanks to Lady MarianRobin of Locksley for adding this story to both story alert and your favorites! Guys, reviews feed my creativity, so please use the little button at the bottom. Thanks and enjoy! Spoiler: One of the characters from canon _does_ make an appearance in this story, but later on. Read on to find out who it is! OK. On with the story!  
**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Robin Hood or any other characters on the show! BBC does! All O/C are my property though!  
**

Chapter One-She's Got Aim!

_Twelve years later…_

"Abigail Thomas! What in the world do you think you're doing?" shrieked Lady Thomas as the young woman slung a quiver of arrows over her shoulder and carried a bow in her right hand. Dressed in a forest-green colored gown that showed off the curves of her breasts and her hair held back by a white band, Abigail looked the picture of the goddess Diana, except for the brown-colored skin. But even with that, Lady Thomas's daughter was the beauty of Lambert Castle and the lands which stood in its shadow. And it wasn't solely she who thought that. The fathers of young men from prosperous families were beginning to inquire after her daughter.

"Practicing, Lady Mother," Abigail replied. "There is a fair coming up shortly in town, and I may have a chance at winning the archery competition this year!"

"You'll do no such thing!" Lady Thomas reproved. "Those contests are not for young ladies! Now, you know my opinion of your archery…"

"But My Lady…!" Abigail began to protest.

"Hush, child! I am speaking! However, if you wish to practice to impress the court when you go with your father next week, then you may! As long as you stay out of the Sun! The Lord knows that you don't need to become any darker than you already are!"

"Yes, Lady Mother," Abigail answered obediently. She went to the stables and then mounted the black stallion her father, Lord Patrick, had sent her as a gift from King John almost three years ago. Naming her horse Caesar (after the great Roman Emperor), she galloped across the drawbridge and down towards the edge of Sherwood Forest. For years, even since she was a little girl, Abigail had come to this spot to practice her archery skills. She vaguely remembered another spot where she and a dark-haired man would practice as well, his deep voice booming with pride whenever she'd hit the target square on. But she could never match a name to the voice, and his face was always blurred in her memories.

Halting Caesar and tying him securely to a distant tree, Abigail took out her bow and slid a broad head arrow from the quiver and rested it in the arrow shelf. Drawing back on the string, she squinted one eye and aimed for the center of the oak tree in front of her. Finally, she released and watched as the arrow went speeding through the air and sank into the bark of the tree in the center where she'd been aiming. A direct hit.

Smiling, Abigail took another arrow from her quiver and this time aimed a little bit above the arrow. However, just as she'd drawn back on the string, Caesar whinnied and snorted, causing Abigail to lose focus and release the arrow. It went whistling through the air and through a gap in the trees. She heard someone say "Ouch!" and quickly hurried to see who'd been hit. Hurrying into the forest, she saw someone lying on the ground, clutching their shoulder.

"Oh! I'm so sorry! I…!" She stopped speaking when the person turned and revealed the face of a young, blonde-haired man with lovely, green eyes and a sensuous smile that could melt any woman's resolve. He was fit and strong, the muscles in his arms clearly defined from the sleeveless doublet he wore. His hose was dark blue and he wore black shoes on his feet.

"So you're the young archer who nearly killed me?" he asked, smiling at her as he got up from the ground. She prayed that her hair wasn't wild or that she didn't look too disheveled. For propriety's sake.

"I…I am very sorry, sir," she apologized, curtseying. "You startled my horse and I lost my focus. I hope you aren't gravely injured."

"Not to worry, my young huntress," he chuckled, showing her the small cut along his muscled shoulder. "Luckily, your arrow just grazed me. I think I fell more from shock than pain. So, what is a lovely young thing like yourself doing out here all alone?"

"Practicing, sir."

"You apparently need it if you're shooting down poor lads like me."

"Beg pardon sir, but perhaps **you** should practice how to duck."

He laughed. "A woman with wit? Now this is a rarity! You must tell me your name, milady!"

"Abigail Thomas, sir."

"Well, Miss Thomas. I am Luke Brantford, son of Lord and Lady Brantford."

"A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Brantford."

"I would say the same if you had not shot me, Miss Thomas!"

"And I am still saying it even though you did not move out of the way of my arrow, Mr. Brantford!"

He laughed again, a deep, jovial laugh that made Abigail smile. He looked at her with his gorgeous, green eyes and Abigail felt her knees go weak under his gaze.

"So. Practicing for the fair, are we?"

"I wish to enter the archery competition, yes. But my Lady Mother does not approve of it. She says it is not proper for young ladies to enter them."

"And you agree with her?"

"If I did, I would not be out here practicing, Mr. Brantford." He smiled. This young woman was different from the other empty-headed, vain girls he'd met in the village below his parents' estate. They cared only about their own vanity and status, aspiring to become rich, wealthy mistresses with servants, all the money in the world to spend and a handsome, young man as a husband. This girl was different. Her eyes blazed with a light he had never seen before when she spoke about archery. It was as if the skill was in her blood, a part of her that no amount of lessons and punishment would ever be able to drive out of her. It made him curious about her.

"If I may ask, Mr. Brantford, what were **you** doing out here in Sherwood Forest?" He quickly looked around to see if anyone else was present, but there was only Caesar the stallion and Abigail.

"Can you keep a secret, Miss Thomas?" he whispered. She nodded. He produced a small book from the pocket of his doublet and held it up. It was red in color and had a marker inside it along with a quill.

"I was here writing poetry. The Muse was with me, so I decided to come to the forest and capture the ministrations of the heart on parchment. My ink has no doubt been spilt all over the leaves, but it is of little consequence."

"I am truly sorry to have interrupted your creative thoughts, Mr. Brantford. But may I ask why your creativity needs to be kept such a secret?"

"Because, like you, my dear Miss Lambert, my parents too disapprove of my skill. While yours lies with the bow and arrow, mine lies with the Muses. And to the rich, words are worth nothing when there is no earthly wealth behind them or before them."

"That was very…creative, Mr. Brantford."

"Thank you, Madam. And now, I shall leave you to your arrows. I hope we'll meet each other at the county fair next week and that you shall be crowned Queen of the Arrows!"

"I don't trust that I will."

"Well, that is because you are not using the same instrument which you use to trust your hand when you release the arrow from the bow."

"And which instrument is that?"

"Your heart, milady Thomas. It is the surest instrument you can always trust in." He smiled and then took her free hand up to his lips and planted a gentle kiss upon it. Winking roguishly at her shocked expression, he picked up his jacket and walked away through the shrubbery and back onto the path through Sherwood Forest.

Abigail smiled and turned to walk back to the area where she had been practicing. And as she lined up another arrow on her bow, she began picturing the shock and wonderment on Luke's face when she was crowned Queen of the Arrows in the archery competition at the county fair next week. Her parents would find out, but feeling the beautiful, green eyes of Luke Brantford roving over her and seeing that sensuous smile of his when she'd won would be worth a thousand scoldings from her Lady Mother and Lord Father.

**Oooo. Abby has her first crush! Will it blossom into something more? Will she disobey her mother's command not to enter the county fair archery competition? Stay tuned for Chapter Two of The Outlaw's Daughter! And now, reviews please and thank you!**


	3. Chapter 3

Robin Hood BBC-The Outlaw's Daughter

Synopsis: Abigail Locksley is the teenage daughter of Robin Hood and Maid Marian. Adopted when she was a small child after her parents' executions, Abigail is sent to court to become a maid-in-waiting to the ruthless King John's new queen. Disgusted by the new king's treatment of his subjects and noblemen, Abigail becomes determined to fight for the common people of England. And when a stranger comes and unites her and her court friends in an unexpected way, her goals may be within reach. But will her love for the King's nephew impede her destiny?

**Hey! So, thanks to my reviewers Erehwona and Drew Demeter. And thanks to Drew Demeter and Erehwona for adding this story to your favorites and story alert! So, I am SO SORRY for leaving this story for so long! But now, I promise to update more frequently, especially since more people seem to be interested in it. So, I may have the next chapter up by tomorrow, but if not tomorrow, then definitely by the weekend. Reviews are what feed my creativity, so review, review, review! And if you have readers, could you tell them to at least _look_ at my story? Thanks! And enjoy!  
**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Robin Hood or any other characters on the show! BBC does! All O/C are my property though!  
**

Chapter Two-A Pleasant Surprise

Abigail sat across from her mother at the large table in the dining hall as her father sat in his usual position at the head of the table. The servants were bringing in the dishes which contained their evening meal. As a young, servant girl laid a dish of pheasants near her father, Abigail could not help but notice the way her father's eyes seemed to linger on the girl the way Luke Brantford's eyes had lingered on her this afternoon. The servant girl kept her head bowed as she left; she either did not notice or was purposely avoiding making eye contact with Lord Thomas. But why?

"So, my dear daughter. What have you been doing to vex your Lady Mother so?" Lord Thomas asked Abigail. Abigail had just begun ladling some fresh salad greens into her plate when she stopped and then replaced the dish on the table.

"Whatever do you mean, Father?" she asked innocently. "My Lady Mother has not told me that I have done anything to vex her."

Lord Thomas put down his forkful of pheasant and then gazed at his wife. "But she has told me, but I am still not clear as to what troubles her so. Wife? Care to explain?"

"It is her archery," Lady Thomas groaned. "Every day, as soon as she is done her lessons, she picks up that accursed bow and her arrows and goes out to the clearing near Sherwood Forest. I do not believe that this is a sport she should be pursuing at all. It is not ladylike."

"But Lady Mother, archery is the sport of kings," Abigail protested. "And you yourself told me that if I wished to practice to impress His Majesty and the court, then I had your blessing to do so."

"Is this true, Madame?" Lord Thomas inquired.

"Well…yes. I did tell her that, but…!"

"Then, the matter can now be put to rest! Now, let us continue to enjoy our meal."

"If my Lord husband would allow me one final request?" Lady Thomas asked.

"Very well," Lord Thomas sighed, eyeing the pheasant with hunger. "What is your request?"

"That you forbid our daughter from competing in the archery competition at the county fair that will be happening in three days," Lady Thomas replied firmly. "It would be a disgrace to our family name to allow our daughter, who is a young lady, to compete in such a manly sport!"

"My Lord Father, please do not do this!" Abigail begged. "I have practiced long and hard to compete this year! I may even have a chance at winning!"

"Peace, daughter," Lord Thomas told her kindly, holding up his hand. Then, he turned back to his wife, his blue eyes serious. "Did you yourself not say that she may practice to impress the King?"

"Yes, milord. But she is not to go to court until next week."

"But the King shall attend the fair and watch the archery competition," Lord Thomas informed his wife and daughter. The two women gasped in shock as their husband and father smiled. "His Majesty, King John, will be in attendance at the fair. I was speaking of it to the King and his Grace, Lord Allan Dale, Earl of Surrey, and the King was all for attending it. He said that the palace was becoming a dreary place and he wished to venture outside its walls and see the rest of his realm."

"So, the King shall come?" Lady Thomas questioned.

"Indeed," Lord Thomas replied. "And I do believe that it would be a great honor for our family if our little Abigail were to compete in the archery competition for the amusement of His Majesty, King John."

"Very well," Lady Thomas agreed. Abigail felt like jumping up and down and screaming with glee to the heavens. Not only was her father (and her mother) allowing her to compete in the archery competition, but she would be performing for the King of England himself!

"And the queen? Is she to come as well?" Abigail asked eagerly.

"No. The queen is attending to other matters of the realm and will not be attending," Abigail's father answered. There was something in his voice that told Abigail that this wasn't the be-all and end-all of the story. However, it would be considered improper for a young lady to immerse herself in the politics of the court; particularly in the affairs of the king and queen.

"Now, as soon as we have finished our evening meal, I want you to go and practice, Abigail," Lord Thomas instructed. "Imagine the surprise on everyone's faces when Abigail Thomas, daughter of Lord Patrick Thomas and the lovely Lady Ursula Thomas, is crowned Queen of the Arrows at the county fair!"

"I will not disappoint you, milord Father," Abigail replied, beaming with joy. "You have my word."

* * *

Caesar and Abigail galloped through Sherwood Forest, the light from the sinking Sun slashing down through the trees and illuminating patches of the forest greenery. Abigail was bouncing in the saddle from the ride and from happiness. She had never imagined that her father would grant her permission to compete in the archery competition. However, as she thought it through again, she realized that it was only because the King would be in attendance that her father was so supportive of her archery. Many times before, he had scolded her for taking the sport so seriously. She was highly-skilled (he had seen her shoot from great distances and still make the target), but he had claimed that she should focus on her Latin, which was her weakest area.

"A man loves an educated woman," Lord Thomas had told her several times before. "That is why I married your mother, you know."

"I shall enchant my husband without Latin, won't I, Caesar?" she said to her stallion as they galloped along the path. The horse snorted and kept galloping on until Abigail was sure they were in the midst of the forest, where the grasses were long and the trees seemed to touch the very belly of the heavens. Just then, she saw a man up ahead at the side of the path with his horse, inspecting the hooves. At the sound of Caesar's approaching hoof beats against the ground, the man turned and a familiar smile crossed Abigail's face. Luke Brantford stood before her, his eyes dancing with merriment and surprise. Abigail quickly brushed a stray hair back behind her ear and straightened up in the saddle, hoping that her red riding habit was not stained too thoroughly.

"Miss Thomas. What a pleasant surprise," he said, bowing to her. On her horse, she could not curtsey, so she gave him a little nod.

"Mr. Brantford. I did not think I would run into you again so soon. It is a pleasure to see you again. Has the Muse once again beckoned you to Sherwood for more sweet poems?"

"Nay, my good lady. The Muses are silent this day. I was simply riding out for some enjoyment. However, my trusty stallion seems to have cast a shoe. I shall have to return home and have my father summon the blacksmith in the morning."

"Would…would you like some company on your way back home?" Luke stared at her in amazement, causing Abigail to flush red and turn her face away. She was being extremely forward and the both of them knew it. Now he would probably think she was a bitch in heat or a slut looking to be bedded by a nobleman.

"I would have no greater pleasure than to have the company of a beautiful, young lady on my way back through this dense forest," Luke replied, smiling. "And you shall meet my parents. Then, I shall have a few men escort you back home. Sherwood is a dangerous place nowadays, especially for a young woman such as yourself. Highwaymen, robbers and rapists hide out in these woods, waiting to prey on the innocent."

"It is times like these where I do wish we had more protection."

"It is of no use to ask the King, for he is too busy extracting money from the people to go to war with France. Some say he does not care for his people at all. Not like good King Richard, God bless his soul."

"If only there was someone that the poor could depend upon to defend them; someone brave and strong and very skilled in strategy of battle. Someone who would fight for justice and the good of the common people."

"You speak of Robin Hood, milady," Luke chuckled as he led his horse back onto the path and the two began walking towards the west. Abigail nudged Caesar forward and the two trotted beside Luke and his stallion. "A great man, so my father says."

"Robin Hood? I thought he was just a legend," Abigail said. At least, her father had always told her that Robin Hood was just a folktale. She'd first heard of the infamous outlaw and his band of merry men from one of the women in the village after her husband had had his hand cut off for poaching a rabbit from Sherwood Forest to feed his starving family. When Abigail had returned home and asked her father about it, he'd dismissed it as nothing less than a tale to inspire the poor to think foolish thoughts.

"Oh no. My father himself knew Robin Hood," Luke replied.

"Really?"

"Yes. You see, Robin Hood saved my father's life when he was sixteen. He was due to be hanged for a crime he did not commit. Robin Hood and his Merry Men stopped the execution and found the guilty thief. My father and his family were forever grateful to the outlaw and his band."

"Wow! What was he like? This Robin Hood?"

"He was like a king the common people loved and adored. He stole from the rich and powerful to give to the poor and needy. He got justice for those who could not get justice alone or from His Majesty."

"Was he…?" Abigail began to say, but then stopped short. Luke looked up at her and then smiled, causing her to blush furiously.

"Was he what, Miss Thomas? Handsome? Strong? Brave? He was all of that and more. It's also said that he married the great love of his life, the fair Maid Marian and had a child."

"A child?"

"Yes. A little girl."

"So what happened to them? Robin Hood, Maid Marian and their daughter?"

"Robin Hood and Maid Marian were arrested by The Black Knights, a squadron of assassins commanded by His Majesty, King John. They were charged and found guilty of treason and causing incitement to cause unrest throughout England. Then, they were publicly executed. It is said that Robin's head hangs above the Watergate of the Tower of London."

"And the child?" Abigail did not want to believe that the King could be so harsh and cruel as to execute a little child.

"Vanished. Disappeared completely. No one knows what happened to her or if she's even still alive. But I will tell you this in confidence, milady: if by chance the child **did** survive, then there is still hope for England."

"Perhaps, Mr. Brantford. Perhaps."

* * *

They continued on in silence for a little more until finally, they reached the edge of Sherwood.

"There it is," Luke said, pointing to a large, sprawling manor just ahead. "Brantford Hall. Home of the Brantford clan since the time of King Richard's father, Henry II." The luscious grounds were spacious and well-cared for. Flowers were blooming as Abigail and Luke walked towards the stables, which were on the far left of the house. A young man of about two and twenty was inside, brushing the coat of a chestnut-colored mare when Luke and Abigail appeared.

"Ah! Master Luke!" the groom greeted, bowing. It was then he noticed Abigail sitting on her horse and made a gentlemanly bow to her as well. "And who is this beautiful creature you've brought home with you? Your sweetheart, perhaps?"

Abigail and Luke both reddened and looked away from each other. Luke could never consider her pretty enough to be his sweetheart. Could he?

"Not yet, Jasper. Perhaps one day," Luke joked, looking at Abigail with a teasing look in his green eyes that made her want to jump off of Caesar and right into his arms. "It looks like Cesare has cast a shoe while we were out riding. The smith will have to be summoned here in the morning. Have you seen my parents?"

"The last I heard, they were in the library," Jasper the groom answered. Then, he turned to Abigail. "I'll look after yer horse, Miss while you're inside."

"Thank you, Jasper," Abigail replied, smiling at him. The young groom looked at the ground and smiled shyly, a red blush creeping into his cheeks. Luke looked at him with amusement.

"Allow me to help you down from your stallion, Miss Thomas," Luke told her. She nodded and then slid out of the saddle and into the waiting arms of Luke Brantford, who stumbled back a bit from the momentum. Her hands were on his chest, and she could feel the muscles through the fabric of his doublet. His hands were on her waist, and the way he was gazing at her was enough to make Abigail want to lean in and press her lips to his and just lose herself in the bliss that was sure to follow.

"Come. We should go and find my parents," Luke said, breaking the trance. Holding out his arm for her to take, the two set off across the grounds and up to the great house. Inside, it was well-furnished and sparkled like a newly-polished gem. Luke led her up the stone stairs and up to the second floor of the house.

"My parents' chambers, the guestroom, my chambers…ah, here we are," he said as they came to a halt in front of a door at the end of the hall. "The library." He turned the knob and slowly opened the door.

The room was massive. With a high ceiling with a chandelier hanging in the middle, tall, wooden bookshelves stood proudly about the room in an orderly fashion. Lined with volumes of great works, the bookshelves looked neat and well-kept. There was also a fireplace with an armchair as well as a chaise nearby. The wooden floors gleamed as though they had been freshly waxed, and there was an expensive rug beneath the chaise and armchair. But what really drew Abigail's attention were the two people sitting in them.

The first was a tall, muscular man of about three and thirty with dark, coal-black hair and stunning green eyes. His moustache was the same color as his hair, and he was wearing a red doublet with slashes on the sleeves and dark, black hose with leather shoes. The second was a small, slender woman with blond hair and sky-blue eyes. She had a pale complexion and a long nose, but she smiled warmly enough when she saw the young man standing there with Abigail.

"Milord Father. Lady Mother," Luke said, releasing Abigail's arm, dropping to his knee and bowing. Abigail quickly sank into a curtsey.

"Arise, children," Lord Brantford commanded. The two arose and Abigail saw Lady Brantford rise from her chaise.

"Well, my son. Who is the lovely, young creature you have brought home with you?" Lord Brantford asked, chuckling jovially. Abigail felt her cheeks turn red with the heat of a blush.

"Miss Abigail Thomas, milord," Abigail said, curtseying once more. "I am honored to make your acquaintance." Lord Brantford took her hand up to his lips and planted a kiss on it.

"No, no, Miss Thomas. It is **I** who is the honored one," Lord Brantford replied. "And this is my wife, the beautiful Lady Amy Brantford."

"Milady," Abigail greeted, curtseying once more. Lady Brantford smiled.

"You are the daughter of Lord Patrick Thomas and his wife, Lady Ursula, are you not?" Lady Brantford asked.

"Yes, milady."

"And how did you happen to come upon my son, Miss Thomas?"

"Lady Mother, if I may," Luke cut in, saving Abigail from having to explain things. "I was out in Sherwood Forest riding when the horse cast a shoe. I was about to return home when Miss Thomas came upon me and offered to accompany me home."

"I do believe that your mother meant before today's meeting, Luke," Lord Brantford told him simply.

"Well…I was riding by again and was resting under the tree when I heard the shooting of arrows coming from nearby. I went further to investigate and came upon Miss Thomas practicing for the county fair's archery competition."

"The archery competition?" Lady Brantford repeated, looking nothing less than shocked that a young lady so lovely and well-mannered would be competing in such an event against grown, highly-skilled men.

"Yes, Lady Mother. In fact, I do believe Miss Thomas has the best chance of winning. I saw her shoot an arrow from over a hundred feet away and still hit the bull's eye directly in the center. And…milord Father? Are you unwell?" Luke asked, noticing his father's face had paled. Abigail looked over as well and saw that his widened eyes were resting on her, making her shiver slightly. Had she done something to frighten the man?

"What?" Lord Brantford inquired, shaking his head. "Um…I suppose I have a touch of pain in my head. Excuse me, my lady. Miss Thomas," he said, bowing first to his wife and then to Abigail before sweeping out of the room.

"Come, Miss Thomas," Luke told Abigail. "The sun will soon have set, and we must get your home safe and sound. My Lady Mother," Luke said, bowing to his mother.

"Lady Brantford, it was an honor to have made your acquaintance," Abigail said, curtseying. The noblewoman bowed and the two young people left the library.

* * *

"Please do tell your father I wish him a speedy recovery from whatever ails him, Mister Brantford," Abigail said as Jasper brought Caesar, who had been fed and brushed by the smile on the young groom's face, towards them. Three men at arms were awaiting her, well-armed and carrying standards of blue and yellow with the Brantford family crest: an eagle fighting a monstrous serpent.

"I shall, Miss Thomas," Luke replied as he held Caesar's bridle steady for her to mount him.

"Shall I see you at the fair tomorrow, Mister Brantford?" Luke, still holding the horse's bridle with one hand, cupped Abigail's face with the other and brought her close to him.

"I shall be there to see you crowned Queen of the Arrows, my young huntress," he whispered to her. Abigail looked into his eyes and almost fainted from the seriousness within them. He would be there to support her and cheer her on to victory because he loved her.

"Have I any hope of winning, Mr. Brantford?"

"Of course you do, sweet Diana." Then, his lips brushed softly and briefly against her own before Abigail could react. "And such a token of luck will surely grant you victory. Now, you must be off before Lord Thomas sends an army to search Sherwood for you. I shall see you on the morrow at the fair, sweet huntress. Godspeed." With that, he kissed her hand with his soft lips before bowing to her and stepping back. Dazed and enamored, she managed to leap into the saddle and, with Lord Brantford's men-at-arms behind her, galloped back towards Lambert Castle.

The figure watched from the window of the chamber as the girl galloped home on the horse, her dark hair flying behind her. The words of his son ran through his mind, tumbling like a fast-flowing river. _You always claimed that no one else could best you from a hundred feet away, old friend,_ Lord William "Will" Brantford thought as he watched the girl and his men-at-arms disappear into the setting sun. _No one except the child that your beloved wife was carrying in her womb. But she can't be the one. It's impossible. She can't be her._

__**So, next chapter, we will meet the ruthless King John and the scheming Allan Dale, Earl of Surrey. Also, the fair doesn't exactly go as planned. But will Abigail win the archery competition? Who is Lord Brantford thinking of (cookies to those who figure it out!)? And will Abigail and Luke become an official couple? Stay tuned for more of The Outlaw's Daughter to find out! So, like I said, reviews feed my creativity, guys, so please review! Starting ... now!**


	4. Chapter 4

Robin Hood BBC-The Outlaw's Daughter

Synopsis: Abigail Locksley is the teenage daughter of Robin Hood and Maid Marian. Adopted when she was a small child after her parents' executions, Abigail is sent to court to become a maid-in-waiting to the ruthless King John's new queen. Disgusted by the new king's treatment of his subjects and noblemen, Abigail becomes determined to fight for the common people of England. And when a stranger comes and unites her and her court friends in an unexpected way, her goals may be within reach. But will her love for the King's nephew impede her destiny?

**I'M ALIVE! So, thanks to my reviewers Drew Demeter (who gets cookies for figuring out who Lord Brantford was talking to), Demoness of Death Valley, Bookworm41, snow299 and ivory-sword! And thanks to snow299 and Joyce013 for adding this story to your favorites and story alert! So, I am SO SORRY for leaving this story for so long!But i was busy with my TMNT story and life! But now, I'm back and so is Abigail! Reviews are what feed my creativity, so review, review, review! And if you have readers, could you tell them to at least _look_ at my story? Thanks! And enjoy!  
**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Robin Hood or any other characters on the show! BBC does! All O/C are my property though!  
**

Chapter Three-Queen of the Arrows

Dawn came bright and early, the pink, purple and orange-streaked sky giving way to a clear and endless patch of blue as the Sun rose from the east. Abigail watched the Sun rise like a great ball of fire from the window of her bedchamber, a robe tossed over her nightgown. Watching the sunrise was relaxing and peaceful for the young woman. And she would need to be relaxed when she competed in the archery competition at the county fair today. If she was tense and nervous, she was sure to misfire and lose. And Abigail felt the competitive side of her nature kicking in as she gazed out at the Sun rising over the tops of the trees of Sherwood Forest. She heard a knock on her door and immediately straightened up lest her mother came in and scolded her for her bad posture.

"Come in," she replied civilly. The door of her chamber opened and in came Abigail's lady's maid, Margaret, or Maggie as she preferred to be called by her friends. She was a red-haired girl from Scotland with green eyes like a meadow and slightly tanned skin. Many of the other women of the household, Lady Thomas included, looked down on the Scottish girl not only because of her looks, but because of her accent, which they considered less "sophisticated" than the English way of speaking. However, Abigail found it fascinating and often had Maggie teach her some Scottish words and would use them in their conversations (out of the earshot of Lady Thomas, of course). Abigail was very glad to have at least one friend that lived in the same home as her. The other girls nearby, Abigail found, were either vain and silly or proud and very cold to her, as if they thought themselves better than everyone else and that she was not fit to walk upon the same ground as they.

"Guid mornin, Mistress Abigail," Maggie replied, carrying in a pitcher of water, a basin and a cloth. "And how did ye sleep last night?"

"I slept like a wee babe, Maggie," Abigail replied, slipping easily into the Scottish accent that Maggie had taught her. Maggie smiled.

"You'll be wantin' to halt that there speech of yers, Mistress," Maggie chuckled as she poured some of the water into the basin. "Lest yer Lady Mother hear ye, and box yer ears."

"I know, Maggie," Abigail replied, looking slightly crestfallen. Maggie came over, the pitcher still in one hand and patted Abigail on the shoulder gently. She'd grown fond of the young woman who, like her, was a rebel to the standards and customs set by a society that sought to strip them of their identities and mould them into what they believed was suitable for young ladies.

"Cheer up, lass. 'Tis a great day, for 'tis the fair ye be attendin'!" Maggie reminded her, setting down the pitcher on the small table and then hurrying into the young woman's armoire to pick out a dress for her. She reappeared with a red hunting gown that had wide, loose sleeves and was low-cut in the front. "And ye must look yer best if 'tis a husband ye be seeking!"

"I'm not seeking a husband, Maggie. And I'm not just going to the fair to watch the events. I'm participating in the archery competition." Margaret almost dropped the jewelry box she was carrying when she heard that. Her face split into a wide smile.

"Yer father agreed?"

"Aye. He did, Maggie. I'm to shoot arrows fer the honor of my family and fer His Majesty, King John." Maggie's eyebrows furrowed at the mention of the ruthless English king, but the smile did not fade away even slightly.

"Let's just hope yer family's honor and pride are all yer father is looking for ye to shoot for," Maggie told her bluntly. Abigail looked confused.

"Whatever do ye mean, Maggie?"

"Pay me no heed, Mistress, for I am a fool. And fools often say things that are not true."

"You are no fool, Margaret Dryden. You are my maid, but more importantly, you are my friend. And as my friend, I expect you to be honest with me. So, what did you mean by what you said?" Margaret opened her mouth to reply, but before she could say anything, there was a knock on the door.

"Abigail?" came the voice of Lady Thomas. The door opened and the Mistress of Lambert Castle came in to her daughter's room. Abigail and Margaret immediately sank into polite curtsies.

"Milady," Margaret said civilly. Lady Thomas did not even seem to notice Margaret as her eyes were riveted on her daughter.

"We are going to be late to morning prayers if you stand there any longer in your nightgown!" Lady Thomas scolded. "Have Margaret dress you and be downstairs in the chapel before seven, or I swear that you will not hear the end of this from me on our drive to the fair!"

"Yes, Lady Mother," Abigail replied, biting her tongue to keep her from begging her mother to allow her to skip morning prayers. Lady Thomas then turned towards the bed where Abigail's gown was laid out, nodded her satisfaction, and then swept away as suddenly as she'd come in.

"Come then, Mistress. Let's get ye dressed and ready for morning prayers," Margaret said, leading Abigail over to the wash basin.

"But, Maggie! What about…?!"

"Never ye mind. I shall explain to ye soon enough. But fer now, ye need God and a clear 'ead to keep ye focused enough to be crowned Queen 'o the Arrows, lass!"

* * *

Abigail gazed out the window of her carriage as she, Lord Thomas and his wife headed towards the grounds near The Plain of Kildarby. It was indeed the largest field in Nottingham, and was often used for a resting place for the King and his hunting party. But today, the field was dotted with brightly-colored tents with small pennants that rippled gently in the light breeze that was stirring and bustled with life as people, rich and poor alike, gathered to watch the sporting events, enjoy the food, and even catch a glimpse of his Majesty, King John. The poor were dressed in their best clothing, but you could still tell them apart from those who had wealth, as the outfits of the poor were often ill-fitting and patched in many places, while the rich fabrics and jewels and costly accessories of the rich stood out like a diamond amongst plain rocks.

It was at times like these when Abigail felt sorry for the poor people. She had been fortunate enough to have been born into a rich family while others had not. And with the appallingly high taxes that the Sheriff of Nottingham imposed upon the people for King John, the poor seemed to suffer more and more each day.

The men-at-arms rode in before the carriage, the standard of the Thomas family before them in the colors of purple and black. The people along the sides immediately scattered out of the way of the horses and gazed as the carriage rode by. Abigail watched the expressions of the people, which varied from face to face. Some of them looked surprised and stared in wonderment while others glowered and glared, as if blaming Abigail and her family for their misfortunes. Abigail sat back against the seat and looked at her parents. Lord Thomas was still gazing out the window of the carriage, the stares not affecting his stern yet compassionate look in the slightest. Lady Thomas held her head high, her nose almost in the air and stared with hard eyes at the people who looked upon her and her family.

"Driver, we are here. You may stop," Lord Thomas said to the driver. The carriage came to a graceful halt, and the footman quickly jumped down and opened the door for them. Lord Thomas stepped down first before turning to help his wife and his daughter down from the carriage. Her quiver of arrows and the handcrafted bow she'd had the carpenter make in the same shape with the same carvings as the small one she'd outgrown slung over her shoulder, Abigail looked around the fairgrounds and saw a group of children about seven or eight years of age playing with each other, one of them trying to catch the others.

"Come along, Abigail!" her mother chided, seizing the young woman's wrist. "Your father has seen it fit to have us dine with the King and his court this day." Abigail's heart immediately seized at the thought. She would be going to court next week, which was a whole different world according to her father. Any chances that she could get to observe the King and his court would be an advantage to her. She followed after her mother and father to a large tent that sat in the center of the fairgrounds. Long tables and wooden benches had been set up. At the High Table, there was a comfortable, carved-back chair that looked almost like a throne set in the middle. Four other men were seated along the table, one of them she recognized as Lord Brantford, Luke's father, who gave her a small smile amidst the expressionless faces of the other members of the King's court. All of them were richly dressed and looked powerful and important. People were already seated at the tables chattering and milling about. Just then, there was a fanfare of trumpets and everyone rose from their seats.

"His Majesty, King John of England!" the crier announced. Abigail, her mother, and all the other women in the room sank into deep curtsies while the men dropped to their one knee and bowed as King John entered the tent. Abigail couldn't resist peeping up through her eyelashes to take a quick glance at the king. He was short and thin and reedy, not tall and muscular and golden-haired like his brother, the late King Richard. His dark hair had bits of golden-blond strands in it, and his brown goatee was getting a tad bit bushy. He sat down on his seat next to a young-looking man with golden-brown hair, striking, brown eyes and a boyish air about him, even though he looked as old as Luke's father, Lord Brantford. He was dressed richly enough in silks and furs, and Abigail couldn't help but wonder how much of the taxes that were collected by this man went to feed his taste in extravagant clothing. The other members of the court sat, but her father and mother rose up. Abigail's father took her mother's hand and nodded to the crier.

"Lord and Lady Thomas, and their daughter, Miss Abigail Thomas!" the crier announced once more. Abigail walked behind her parents, her head respectfully bowed as they approached the King. All around her, she could hear whispers swirling about her and felt the stares of hundreds of eyes trained on her back and face as she sank into another curtsey before the king.

"Ah, Lord Thomas!" King John cried happily, rising from his seat and coming down from the High Table. Her father was on one knee, bowing before the king, but then raised his head and smiled.

"Your Grace," Lord Thomas replied. The king grasped his shoulders and hauled him up, giving him a manly hug and a backslap, which Lord Thomas returned jovially enough. "Allow me to introduce my wife, Lady Ursula and my daughter, Abigail." Lady Thomas immediately curtsied gracefully before the king told her and Abigail to rise from their knees.

"Majesty," she greeted, smiling.

"A pleasure, Madame," he told Lady Thomas, kissing her hand. Then, his dark eyes fell on the young woman dressed in the alluring, comfortable red hunting gown. She could feel the eyes of the king on her, as well as those of the court, who were probably observing this interaction between the new girl and the King of England.

"Your Grace. It is an honor to meet you," Abigail said, bowing her head. Then, she felt the King's fingers underneath her chin, and felt her head being tilted up until she was staring into the dark eyes of King John.

"Mistress Abigail. Please. The pleasure is **all** mine," he whispered, taking her hand up to his lips, his eyes never leaving hers. Then, he straightened up and released her hand. "Allow me to introduce you to Lord Allan A. Dale, the Earl of Surrey. Milord, this is Lord Patrick Thomas, his lovely wife, Lady Ursula, and their daughter, Mistress Abigail." Abigail saw that he was speaking to the golden-brown haired man who was on the left of his seat. The Earl of Surrey arose from his seat and gave a little bow to the Thomas family, who all either bowed or curtseyed in return to show their respect.

"Milord," they all said at once.

"We are pleased that you and your family could join us, Lord Thomas," the Earl of Surrey told them. His voice, although it had mean to sound warm, was more like ice on Abigail's bare skin. Something was displeasing the Earl of Surrey, and Abigail had a feeling that all was not right between her father and Dale. "The entertainment that has been organized promises to be…what is that on your daughter's back, milord?"

"It is a Saracen bow with a quiver of arrows, milord Surrey," Abigail answered for her father. "I am to compete in the archery competition." Whispers and gasps filled the room as the faces of King John and the Earl of Surrey became masks of shock and disbelief.

"Mistress Abigail. You are…you are a young lady," King John stated, half in shock and half in what would seem to be something like…admiration.

"Your Grace. Surely the rules…" Dale began to protest, but Lord Brantford cut him off.

"The rules do not ban women from entering the competition," Lord Brantford interrupted firmly. "And as the overseer of this entertainment for His Majesty, I move that we do not allow this meal to become cold while debating such a pointless issue when the rules are clearly in Miss Thomas's favor."

"The rules of the competition, yes. But the rules of propriety and etiquette surely forbid such action by a young lady," Dale argued. "Surely Your Grace would not allow a young woman who is to come to court next week to participate in such a sport that is unbecoming to her sex."

"The Earl has made an excellent argument," King John said. Then, he turned to Abigail, his face stern. "You, Mistress Abigail Thomas, are forbidden to participate in the archery competition by my orders." Abigail opened her mouth to protest, but caught the warning glances from both her father and Lord Brantford (the latter looking sympathetic towards her) and closed it.

"Yes, Your Grace. I will abide by your command," Abigail replied, curtseying and looking calm on the outside. On the inside, she was seething. How dare they forbid **her** from competing just because she was a girl! Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the Earl of Surrey looking at her with a triumphant gleam in his eye. She wanted nothing more than to strike him hard across his face.

"It is solely for your good name and image as a young lady that I do this, Mistress Abigail," King John whispered to her gently, raising her hand to his lips. She felt her skin crawl when his lips touched her hand. _No,_ she thought to herself. _You don't want a reputation in Europe as the only king in Christendom who allows his women to do as they please! I hope that bandits or assassins crash this fair for all it's worth!_

"Now, let us dine!" King John declared. There was a roaring smatter of applause before the servants came in with their dishes and begun to serve the lords and ladies of the King's court. Lord Thomas was called over to the table where some men were seated, laughing. Lady Thomas made her way over to the table where the great ladies of the court, such as Her Grace, Eleanor of Aquitaine, the King's mother, were seated. Abigail sat down with other young girls who looked about her age, maids-in-waiting to the Queen undoubtedly. She could feel the icy glares and stares from some of the girls. One of them, a fair-skinned, buxom blonde with green eyes and wearing a French gown of purple silk that showed her bust to the world, looked at Abigail before turning her head and tossing her blonde locks.

"Ignore Elizabeth Howard. She has always been a vain, self-centered creature," whispered a young maiden with fiery-red locks that reminded Abigail a lot of Martha's. This young woman was not as plump and buxom as Elizabeth Howard, but she was not ugly either. She was almost plain in a way with her brown eyes and long nose, but Abigail did not mind. In the presence of many of England's richest and loveliest, she felt like an ugly duckling amongst these swans. "I am Christine Neville. My father is Sir Ian Neville of the King's Guard and my mother is Lady Esther Neville. You are Abigail Thomas, I believe? I saw you with the King earlier. He certainly seemed quite taken with you." Abigail smiled at Christine's chatty nature. It was very pleasing and welcome amidst such silence.

"He is probably only trying to woo her into his bed and then abandon her," said the cold, snide voice of Elizabeth Howard. Apparently, eavesdropping and cruelty ran in that girl's family along with beauty. "After all, she is going to be new to court and will be fresh meat for His Grace to…feast upon."

"You speak of me as though I were a slice of venison, Miss Howard," Abigail told her, trying to beat back her anger at this cold girl's remarks towards her.

"I only wish to warn you since you have obviously never been to any royal court in the whole of Christendom in your life," Elizabeth Howard shot back. "You have need of such warnings. Any one mistake at court could be your last."

"You would scare her from coming to court, Lizzie?" Christine chuckled darkly. "Perhaps you are simply afraid that His Grace would cease His attentions towards you and focus them on Miss Thomas."

"As usual, Christine, you are being completely foolish!" Elizabeth Howard snorted, tossing her hair. But there was something in her voice that made Abigail sense that Elizabeth was truly worried about losing the King's eye. Abigail felt a tiny pint of sympathy for the young woman. She knew that often more than not, girls like Elizabeth were forced to take the King's eye on the orders of their male relatives: fathers, brothers, uncles, cousins; any man that could profit from a married monarch's eye landing on the female of the family.

"Besides, this little dark-skinned upstart could never catch any man's attention, let alone His Majesty's!" Elizabeth sniffed. The tiny pint of sympathy was erased from Abigail's being with that comment. She gritted her teeth and clenched her fists under the table which Elizabeth Howard looked at her with a smug look on her face.

"Hello ladies," came a voice that made Abigail's knees go weak. Looking up, she saw the green eyes and charming smile of Luke Brantford looking back at her. She smiled.

"Mr. Brantford," Elizabeth greeted, sitting up straight and puffing out her chest so that Luke would not miss seeing her breasts on display. "How nice to see you again! I hope you are well! We've missed you at court, you know!"

"Thank you for your well-wishes, Mistress Howard," Luke replied, his eyes drifting to her chest before he turned away and looked at Abigail. "I require a private word with Mistress Abigail. That is, if she is willing to speak with me."

"Of course, Mr. Brantford," Abigail replied, getting up from her seat. Luke held out his arm for her to take and then, the two of them left the tent. Abigail glanced back over her shoulder and saw Christine smiling at her as well as Elizabeth Howard looking positively furious. Then, she glanced up at the High Table and saw that King John was also looking at her as she and Luke left the dining tent.

"I do believe we are far enough from any prying ears, Mr. Brantford," Abigail told Luke as they rounded the corner of another tent. It was close enough to the stables and hidden from the main path. "Now, what is it that you would tell me?"

"That I have a plan to get you into the archery competition," Luke replied as he leaned against the wooden door. Abigail stared at him in shock.

"Luke! You would dare to defy the King's word?! That is treason!" Abigail hissed at him. "It is just a competition! It is not worth putting your head on the block!"

"Do not tell me that you are content with standing and observing for I shall not believe it!" Luke retorted, staring down at her.

"Of course I am not! I was looking forward to this just as much as you were!" she fired back. "But the King's word is law, and unless He himself decides to reverse that decision, I must obey. I am His subject, His servant. And so are you."

"You will fit in perfectly at court," Luke sniffed. "Always hiding your true feelings and ambitions behind your loyalty to a king who cares nothing for His people!"

"Luke! Your tongue will be your doom! Keep silent before someone hears!"

"No! I…!" The rest of the sentence was cut off when Abigail seized Luke's doublet in her hand and pulled him towards her, pressing her lips to his. Luke's arms immediately wrapped around Abigail's waist, pulling her closer to his body as he kissed her back. Suddenly, the air of the fair was rent with screams of terror. Abigail and Luke broke apart and ran back out onto the path to see people running in all directions as masked horsemen armed with swords and spears came galloping through the crowds.

"Assassins! Assassins!" a woman screamed, carrying her newborn baby in her arms, running towards Locksley Village. "Run! Run for your lives!"

"Come Abigail! We must get to safety!" Luke yelled above the chaos, seizing her hand tightly.

"My father and mother!" Abigail shouted, freeing herself from Luke's grasp. Picking up her skirts, she ran back to the dining tent and was almost knocked over as men and women, young and old, bolted past her, screaming and yelling in terror. Pushing her way into the tent, she saw the tables turned over, food and drink spilt everywhere, and torn slashes of the tent peeling from the fabric. Abigail quickly pulled the hood of her cloak over her head, masking her face lest the assassins should recognize her or see that she was a woman.

"Please! No! Don't do this!" pleaded a voice. Hurrying to a torn hole in the rear of the tent, Abigail kept out of sight and saw King John lying on the ground, badly beaten and struggling to get up. The Earl of Surrey was being held tightly by two of the masked men while Lord William Brantford was also being restrained by men who looked like the King's own guards. It was then that one of the men in the black masks drew a sword from his scabbard and then stood over the king. Abigail, without another thought, quickly slipped her bow off her shoulder and then slid out an arrow from her quiver onto the bow. Pulling back on the string, she took a breath and aimed for the assassin's neck.

"Now **you** will know how it feels to be slain by a blade, Your Majesty!" hissed the assassin as he raised the sword in the air. And as the sword came crashing down towards the king's head, Abigail released the arrow, which whistled through the air and sank sharply into the assassin's neck. The sword dropped from his hand as the man fell to the ground, dead. The other assassins stared in horror and shock, gazing wildly around for the shooter. Just then, Abigail stepped forth from the shadows of the tent with two arrows on her bow and shot the two assassins holding Lord Brantford. They took arrows to the head and collapsed to the ground, dead like their leader. The two holding the Earl of Surrey charged forward, swords drawn, only to meet the blade of a sword that blocked them from striking Abigail. She turned and saw Luke Brantford battling with the two assassins, cutting down one with his own sword and kicking the other onto the blade of his father, Lord William.

"Your Majesty!" cried the Earl of Surrey. The three turned and saw the noblemen helping up the monarch, who was white in the face with fear. The crown lay on the ground, and the Earl of Surrey quickly picked it up and handed to the king, bowing reverently. King John turned and saw the three standing there, weapons unsheathed and stained with the blood of victory. The two men bowed and Abigail only bowed her head, desperate to keep her identity a secret.

"Such bravery I have not seen since my brother, God rest his soul, went to war against the Muslims during the Crusades," King John told them. He placed a hand on Lord William's shoulder. "William, my old friend. I can always trust you to guard me even when my own guards fail me. You shall receive a reward for this. You and your young lad," the king said, looking at Luke with a proud smile on his face. "Continue to teach him well, and I'll see if I can't find him a place in my Guard when he's a little older." Finally, his eyes landed on Abigail, her face obscured by the hood. She heard him walk towards her and kept her head bowed, the bow still in her right hand.

"And you," he said to her. "You saved my life with that bow. Never have I seen such skill and accuracy since…well, it has been a long time. But I wish to look upon the face of my savior. Remove your hood, my rescuer and let your king behold you face to face."

"Uh, Your Grace, is that really necessary? I mean…the lad is probably already grateful for you even taking notice of him," the Earl of Surrey cut in, staring hard at Abigail. "Surely seeing his face is not such an honor to be bestowed upon such a lowly archer."

"For once, Dale, hold your snake charmer's tongue!" King John snapped angrily. "**I **am King of England and France! **I **shall decide whom I shall look upon face to face!" Then, turning back to Abigail, who was trying her best to stiffen a smile, his tone became a lot calmer. "Now, good sir. I ask that you remove your hood so that I may see your face."

"As Your Grace commands," Abigail replied before pushing the hood back and looking up into King John's shocked and surprised face.

"Mistress Abigail?!" the king shouted in shock.

"I told you, Sire," the Earl of Surrey reminded him. "Now, let us be gone back to the castle. The Sheriff will most undoubtedly be…!"

"Quiet, Dale!" King John commanded. Then, his eyes fell once again on Abigail. He seized her by the shoulders and pulled her to him. Frightened that the king was going to kiss her in front of the young man she loved, she was relieved and a little disturbed when King John kissed both her cheeks and held her hands in his like they were before the altar at their wedding.

"Mistress Abigail. Words cannot express the gratitude I feel towards you in my soul," the king told her. "I wish to reward you greatly for saving my life, and I will bestow you with a small honor when you come to court next week. But for now, is there anything that you wish for me to do for you? All you need is ask, milady. I am your humble servant." Abigail's gaze wandered to Luke, who smiled as if he could read her thoughts.

"Well, Your Grace. There **is** one request that I have to make of you."

* * *

Abigail stood on the platform, the target directly in front of her. Arrows lined the sides and one was close to the center of the target. The air was silent as Abigail drew forth an arrow and slid it onto her bow. She pulled back on the string, squinted to ensure that she was in line with the target, took a deep breath, and then released the arrow. It flew through the air and buried itself straight in the center of the target. The crowds cheered and clapped as the young woman smiled and walked off the platform.

"It's between you and George Culpepper," Luke whispered to her as the young nobleman once again took to the platform. "If he cannot match you, you will win." George slid an arrow onto his bow and then pulled back on the string. Silence rang through the air as the young man released it and watched it bury itself…on the side of the target far from where Abigail's had landed. A thunderous cheer went up from the crowd as Abigail felt the strong arms of Luke Brantford close around her, and then she was being twirled around and around, laughing with joy.

King John then walked onto the platform, followed by the sullen-looking Earl of Surrey who was carrying a silver arrow, a laurel wreath and a large pouch that was filled with coins. Abigail then made her way onto the platform with Luke Brantford beside her, holding her hand tightly amidst the whispers of the crowd of noblemen and peasants.

"Winner of the archery competition: Miss Abigail Thomas, daughter of Lord Patrick and Lady Ursula Thomas!" the crier declared as a thunderous applause went up from the crowd. King John smiled as he raised his hands for silence.

"Kneel," the king whispered. Abigail sank gracefully to her knees, her head bowed. She felt the softness of the laurel wreath as it was placed on her head.

"Arise, Mistress Abigail Thomas: Queen of the Arrows!" the king shouted as the crowd once more burst into cheers and applause. Abigail rose from her knees and smiled graciously as the Earl of Surrey handed her the Silver Arrow and the pouch of coins.

"There are five hundred crowns in this pouch, Mistress Thomas," the Earl of Surrey informed her, his false smile making her want to laugh in his face. "Use it to buy yourself some jewels and better gowns before you arrive at court next week. I have no doubt that you will need them."

"Thank you for your…suggestion, milord Surrey. But **I** shall decide how this money is spent," Abigail replied coolly, delighted to see the earl looking angry. She turned and smiled as Luke took her hand in his and kissed it.

"My queen," he whispered to her, smiling at her so sensuously that Abigail felt as though she would faint right there and then. And as she turned and waved to the crowds, who responded so lovingly and excitedly to her having won the archery competition, Abigail never felt more like a queen than at that very moment in time.

**So, next chapter, Abigail finally goes to court with her father! And if anyone has ever watched the show The Tudors, you know that there's nothing but plots, romance and drama at a royal court. But aside from all that, when will Abigail find out the truth about her parents? How will she deal with King John (who's gonna be a jerk soon, guys. Don't worry!) having an eye for her? And will the Earl of Surrey's and Abigail's clashes turn into something more deadly? Stay tuned for more of The Outlaw's Daughter to find out! So, like I said, reviews feed my creativity, guys, so please review! Starting ... now!**


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